Stolen Kiss
by QueenZenobia
Summary: The team helps Emily through her grandpa's funeral. (The story is in Hotch's point of view.)
1. Chapter 1

_**Another short piece, just for fun! I hope you like it!**_

 _ **I don't own these wonderful characters.**_

* * *

S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner wasn't going to read that last batch of emails because it was already five o'clock and Jack's soccer game was at five-thirty. He would make it just in time if he left right now. And _just-in-time_ is what he aimed for these days, as opposed to _early_ , because _early_ gave Haley a few extra minutes to glare at him. She had been civil throughout the divorce ordeal, but now that it was over she stopped pretending and contempt seethed through her pores. Not that he blamed her. Twenty years of marriage down the drain, and for what? Not even he could understand why he let it happen.

But the email from Human Resources caught his eye because it had the name Emily Prentiss in the subject line. So he opened it and quickly read it through. She took the next two days off. Why? The _personal_ box was checked off. Okay. He wondered if Thursday and Friday would be enough for her personal… whatever. He would make sure she got Saturday and Sunday off, as well. She wouldn't be called if there was a case. But then he had a vision of her at his door tapping her foot and asking in an exasperated tone, "Why wasn't I called in with the team? What the hell, Hotch?"

He couldn't avoid the smile that snaked across his features. She was a spitfire, that Emily Prentiss, though he didn't have the guts to tell her so. Aaron picked up the desk line, dialed, and said, "Hi, J.J."

"What are you still doing here? Haley's gonna kill you if you're late," warned the strawberry blonde. Hotch could hear the worry behind her motherly tone.

"Yes, I'm on my way out."

"Um-hum," she said with incredulity.

"No, really, look, I've got my suitcase and everything."

J.J. looked out her office window across the catwalk and smiled at him as he lifted his briefcase over his desk.

"So what's up?" she asked.

"I just got an email from HR about Emily. Did you know she took a couple days off?"

J.J.'s tone immediately softened, "Oh, yeah, her grandpa died."

"Oh, no, that's terrible. What happened?"

"I don't know, she didn't tell me much. But he was really old, like ninety-something."

"I'm surprised she didn't come talk to me."

"Yeah, me too. Maybe she was in a hurry. It's a five-hour drive to her grandpa's estate."

"Okay. So let's leave her alone if a case pops up over the weekend. Don't alert her, okay?"

"It's your call," she said smartly. "But Em's going to eat you alive when she gets back!"

"Well, let's just keep our fingers crossed and hope the serial killers behave this weekend."

Five minutes later the Unit Chief was hurrying down the stairs. By habit he glanced at his raven-haired agent's desk in the bullpen and felt a wave of apprehension. Something was amiss, and Hotch had very good instincts. Why did she go straight to HR instead of talking to him? And why didn't she tell the team about her loss? They would gladly have shown up at the funeral to hold her hand. Hell, this was Emily. Hotch himself would probably have baked something for the occasion, a lasagna or whatever funeral food Rossi suggested. Maybe he would call her after Jack's game. Yes, he would definitely call her after Jack's game.

* * *

Aaron tossed and turned in his bed. He reached over to Hailey's side and instead of her warm, soft skin he felt cold, empty sheets. It still surprised and shocked him to wakefulness. Frustrated, he finally gave up and turned on his night table lamp. His cell phone read 2:00 A.M. and still Emily hadn't called. The first time he called her, he hung up with the voicemail. An hour later when he called back he left a message saying that he _and J.J_. (coward, adding J.J.'s name made him feel braver) were worried, to please call him back. Maybe she did call back. Of course, she did: she called J.J. That's what happened. He was tempted to text J.J., but decided it was completely inappropriate due to the late hour. What would Will think?

He texted Emily instead. _Lost track of time. More worried now than before. Are you okay?_ He felt like a stalker, and his message sounded needy, but he pressed send anyway.

Moments later, his text message alert beeped and he immediately read it. Emily responded: _Sorry for not responding. It's been a hard day, but I'll be okay. Appreciate your concern._

A generic message. But she slipped: she said she _will be_ okay, as in the future tense. So she wasn't okay _now_. He knew it –he had been right to worry. Aaron wondered if he should respond. But he didn't have to wait long. She sent him another text message: _Can I call you now?_

He nearly fell off the bed. He typed: _Of course you can. Please do._ And he nervously raked his fingers through his disheveled hair combing it, as if she would be able to see him. Moments later the Imperial March filled his room. Aaron immediately thought of Jack. He had been messing with his settings and he obviously programmed his new ring tone. "That little rascal," smiled Hotch and then he answered, "Hello, Emily, I'm so glad you called."

* * *

 _ **Okay, so a warning to the readers: This piece ends next chapter, and it is NOT going to end as you would expect. And that's all I'm sayin'.**_


	2. Chapter 2

On the flight to the funeral, Aaron mentally brainstormed about the sanctions required by each of the rules he was breaking. He was using the Company jet, Company time, and Company SUVs. And to top things off, he had included Will and Henry, who weren't covered by the Company insurance policy. But he had no choice. He promised Emily that J.J. would come too, that was before he spoke with J.J. and found out it was her and Will's anniversary weekend.

Fortunately, though, the whole team was staying at Emily's grandpa's estate, so no need to run up the Company's bill any further by booking a hotel. How's that for saving tax-payer dollars?

Aaron was practically making himself sick with these thoughts. But he preferred these thoughts because, quite frankly, the alternative scared the crap out of him. The alternative was to start deciphering the _why_. _Why_ had he gone to such lengths for Agent Prentiss? Why was he so nervous now, just moments from seeing her? No, he wasn't ready to start thinking about any of that.

It was a twenty minute ride from Raleigh-Durham International Airport to the Prentiss estate in ranch country. From the passenger seat Rossi commented on the beautiful landscape and scenery, but Hotch remained silent and austere behind the wheel. Rossi quietly studied the Unit Chief's demeanor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Aaron? You look, I don't know, on edge."

"I'm, fine, Dave," he responded curtly. "It's just that, well, I can think of a hundred better uses for our time and resources."

Dave frowned and said, "Oh, yeah? Name one." In the back seat, Spencer and Derek grew silent, picking up on the confrontational tone of voice. After a moment's silence, Dave chided, "You know, Aaron, that's cold, even for you. This is _Emily_ , and quite frankly there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be than by her side when she needs us most."

An uncomfortable silence filled the SUV for the remaining fifteen minutes of the ride. They finally arrived and the estate gates opened to let the two black vehicles through. As they approached the house, Hotch's heart nearly stopped when he spotted Emily in the group gathered out front. Her simple black dress gave her the appearance of a fragile porcelain doll, rather than the deadly Agent who could wield a Glock like a toy. The SUVs pulled up to the gravel cul de sac and parked.

He took his time exiting the car. He went to the trunk to pull out his go-bag, stalling the greeting because he had no idea what to say or how to feel. He and Emily had spoken through the night until sunrise. It had been wonderful! But just now it occurred to him how inappropriate that had been. What if she was angry at him? She had every right to be, he had preyed on her while she was in a vulnerable state. What kind of man are you, Aaron Hotchner?

"Hotch!" called Spencer. "Come on, we're just in time for the funeral."

Hotch followed Spencer to a car in the procession. Emily had already gotten into another one with J.J., Will, and Henry. On the short ride to the cemetery Spencer filled him in on the statistics of bereavement. Turns out it's a lot easier for the family to cope when they are surrounded by family and friends at the funeral.

"I never know what to say at a funeral," confessed Hotch.

"You don't have to say anything," assured Spencer. "It's your presence that counts."

Hotch felt better after that conversation. He was surprised that Reid, of all people, was the one to help him through this. But such is the nature of comfort-it comes from the most unexpected places. Aaron stepped out of the car and headed straight to the family seated in a row in front of the coffin. He took a moment to observe the beautiful wreaths placed on the regal black coffin. Then he extended a warm handshake and a sincere "Sorry for your loss" to each family member, hyper aware of Emily's spot. When he reached her, he took her hand in both of his and said, "I'm very sorry for your loss, Emily."

"Thank you, Aaron," she said, but her eyes were hidden from him behind her dark sunglasses. He had no way of knowing what she was thinking or feeling.

The service was simple and brief. At some point Hotch stood behind Emily and shaded her from the sun with his umbrella. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and she covered his fingers with hers. She pressed his hand every now and then, but she didn't shed a single tear.

After the service the team met under the shade of an ancient oak. Emily was the last to arrive and Spencer took the lead. "How are you, Em?"

"I'm fine," she said out of habit. And she sighed deeply.

"You know, I don't think you are," said Spencer matter-of-factly. "You are at your lowest point right now, but, statistically speaking, I think this will help." And in front of the dumb-founded team he pulled her into his arms and kissed her good and hard.

It happened so quickly that Hotch thought he had imagined it.

"How do you feel now?" asked Spencer.

"Better!" she laughed her confession and the whole team let out a delayed reaction. Their somber attitude turned into celebration as they teased a blushing Emily and expressed their awe at the bold Dr. Spencer Reid. When he started blurting out facts on the benefits of funeral sex, Emily immediately said, "Don't get carried away, Spencer. You and I are _not_ …" she couldn't even finish the statement.

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying!" said Derek. "Come here, lover boy. I think I was wrong about you." He put an arm around Spencer's shoulder and led him to the car. Emily followed with Will and J.J. and she laughed when Henry asked, "Why was Uncle Spencer kissing you, Aunty Emily?"

Hotch thought he had stayed behind alone but he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Swindled by a kid!" laughed Rossy.

"Pardon?" asked Hotch.

"I said you got swindled by Dr. Spencer Reid and his statistics."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said and he started walking to the car.

"Maybe not," said Rossy. "But all that talk of funeral sex made sense to me. You should watch the kid closely tonight!"

And Hotch quickened his pace. He wasn't about to let Spencer out of his sight, not even for a minute!

The End

 _ **I hope you enjoyed that!**_


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